


Can’t Stand Your Loneliness

by anonniemouse



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, I cried while writing this, M/M, One Shot, based on today’s Free Murdoc chat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 05:58:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15857631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonniemouse/pseuds/anonniemouse
Summary: There’s such a difference in missing someone and knowing that they’re out there waiting for you and missing someone while knowing that they’re gone forever and you’ll never see them again.





	Can’t Stand Your Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

> this was a very painful thing to write. although it’s possible that murdoc might not actually be dead, i still decided to write this assuming that he died.
> 
> hope you enjoy. xoxo, mouse

It was Noodle who found out first.

 

Even though it was August, it was freezing cold  where she was. She had stopped in an area of decent cell phone reception so she could warm herself and check up on how the rest of the band was doing during her search for El Mierda in the snowy peaks of the Andes.

 

Before she could contact anyone, her phone rang. The caller ID was unfamiliar, but she answered the call anyways.

 

She wished she hadn’t.

 

How strange it was that people could go from living to dead in so little time, how one minute they can be so fucking alive and the next minute you’re on the phone with someone telling you that someone you’ve known for ages is suddenly gone.

 

She felt her legs buckle and soon she found herself lying on her back in the snow, hot tears tracking their way down her frozen face.

 

Lying there was much more productive, she thought. There was no sense in hiking any longer, anyways. She didn’t know what to do without Murdoc supplying the information about El Mierda. She wasn’t even sure if she was near his hideout anymore.

 

The more important thing now was to tell everyone, tell everyone that _Murdoc’s gone forever and he’s never coming back._

 

Most importantly how to tell you.

 

 _I’m coming home,_ she texts you.

 

 _Why?_ is your response.

 

 _Because,_ she answers, whispering her response aloud to herself. _Murdoc’s dead._

 

 _No, he’s not,_ you retort, disbelieving. _He’s in jail but he’s safe and he’s alive._

 

 _They just called me. They found his body in the sewers. He drowned, 2D,_ she says. _He’s gone._

 

_He can’t be dead. He’s Murdoc._

 

_Even Murdoc can die, 2D. He’s still human just like you and me. He’s not invincible._

 

_No._

 

_I’m upset too._

 

_No._

 

_Whatever happens, it’s going to be alright in the end._

 

_No no no no nonononononono._

 

You never see her reply because your phone falls to the ground and you sink into a chair and bury your face in your knees. Your body shakes and your lungs burn and tears blur your vision. You sit there sobbing and repeating his name desperately like somehow it could bring him back.

 

“You heard the news too?” Russel’s voice swims above your head and you can barely bring yourself to look up at him. “What a shame. He could’ve changed. But of course he had to go. He was too young to die.” He shakes his head, sighing.

 

“How can you be so heartless?” you snap. “Murdoc’s bloody dead and you’re not even sad about it!”

 

“Oh, I’m sad,” Russel replies, a new sharpness to his voice. “I just handle it different.”

 

Trembling, you get up, brush past Russel and walk to your room, collapsing onto your bed and hiding your face in the pillows.

 

_Murdoc. Our Murdoc. Gone._

 

And you never even got to say a real goodbye.

 

Russel’s words echo in your mind. _What a shame. What a goddamn shame, 2D._

 

You know all Murdoc did was hurt you. You know that you should be cheering for the death of someone who’s made your life miserable, not moping on the bed like some kind of lovelorn widow. And you know that it certainly isn’t healthy to have desperately missed him when he was in jail and to now miss him when he’s dead.

 

There’s such a difference in missing someone and knowing that they’re out there waiting for you and missing someone while knowing that they’re gone forever and you’ll never see them again.

 

Part of you wants to believe that this isn’t real, that any minute now Murdoc will pop up at your window and say _faceache, why?_

 

_Faceache, why are you crying over me when I’m right here?_

 

_Faceache, why’d you fall for something so stupid?_

 

_It was clearly a bloody joke. I put a decoy me in the sewers, hid under the bed, and escaped when they were cleaning my “empty” cell out._

 

_Brilliant plan, right?_

 

And you’d give a weak grin, open the window, and let him in. And then you’d hold him in your arms and press your face into his hair and whisper how much you missed him.

 

But no, he’s dead and gone and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.

 

Time blurs past you and you can barely tell. Ace stops in to bring you dinner at one point, and he sits next to you and rubs your back, not saying a word, hoping to calm you down. You know he’s tried so hard to be what Murdoc was to you after he arrived and Murdoc left, but it’s just not quite the same.

 

“Ace,” you whisper.

 

“Yeah?” he replies.

 

“Do you know?” you ask.

 

He nods. “I’m so sorry, 2D. So frickin’ sorry.”

 

_What a goddamn shame._

 

You close your eyes again, and imagine Murdoc dying down in the prison sewers, wet and afraid and covered in shit. Did he just give in and accept his death? Or did he keep blindly fighting against the current, clawing at the surface until his lungs filled with sewage and his body just gave out? You picture Murdoc’s limp corpse laying down there, soggy and cold. How many hours passed by until the prison guards realized he was gone? How many more passed until they found him?

 

You let out a gasping sob, and you feel Ace’s hand pet your hair comfortingly.

 

“It’s gonna be okay, 2D,” he tells you, his voice cracking with grief. “It’s gonna be alright. Life’s gonna move forward and you’re gonna be just fine.”

 

And for just a second, you believe him. But then your thoughts grow darker once more. _It’ll never be alright,_  you think. _How can it be alright if Murdoc is dead?_

 

You lay there on your bed quietly, stifling your sobs into your pillows. Eventually Ace assumes that you’re asleep, and he gets up and leaves, not before planting a small kiss on the small bit of your face poking out from the pillows. You pretend that it’s Murdoc’s lips against your cheek instead.

 

That night, when you finally fall asleep, you dream of Murdoc lying next to you, warming you with his body heat, his arm wrapped around you and holding you close to him. You dream of him telling you he was sorry for everything. Him telling you he loved you. Him just being so fucking alive.

 

You wake up the next morning in tears, and your bed is cold and your room is lonely.

 

You really can’t stand loneliness.


End file.
